


Is This More Than You Bargained For Yet?

by stuffingstilinski



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: AU, Belly Kink, Belly Rubs, Chubby Stiles, College AU, Feeding, Lacrosse, M/M, Stuffing, Weight Gain, chubby!Stiles, mentions of Allison, mentions of Lydia, mentions of coach
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-15
Updated: 2014-09-15
Packaged: 2018-02-17 12:09:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2309177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stuffingstilinski/pseuds/stuffingstilinski
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>College lacrosse has Scott on diet regimen he doesn't want to break and Stiles sees this as the perfect opportunity to taunt his best friend with all the foods he can't eat. Scott doesn't really miss the food, but he wasn't expecting to become attracted to his best friend as he packs on way more than just the freshman fifteen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Is This More Than You Bargained For Yet?

**Author's Note:**

> I was needing some chubby stiles, so i just started writing and i wrote this up really quick. its kind of fast, but I hope you all still enjoy it :)

“Cookie?” Stiles asks, holding out a package of Oreos towards Scott’s end of the couch.

Scott glances over and rolls his eyes. He knows exactly what Stiles is doing, “Are you really going to do this every time you eat? It’s been almost a month.”  

Stiles laughs, pulling out a cookie and obnoxiously plopping it into his mouth. He knows Coach Finstock has his team on a strict diet and training regimen but it’s still fun to taunt his best friend with all of the sweets and junk he knows Scott loves but can’t eat. This is why Stiles had opted _not_ to play sports in college, not that he was as good as Scott anyway, but he still didn’t want the responsibility of morning practices and trainings. The season didn’t even start until winter and yet half of Scott’s life already revolved around the sport. Stiles knew he didn’t have the kind of discipline necessary to play college lacrosse; and besides, he wanted to be able to drink his weight in beer at parties and not worry about things like carbs and calories.   

He makes a show of the next cookie, splitting it in half and slowly licking the cream as he moans, “Is that a serious question? Of course I’m going to do this every time I eat, at least every time I’m around you. I just want you to know exactly what it is you’re missing out on.”

“I think I got the idea thirty minutes ago when you were eating the brownies Allison made, or last week when Lydia gave you the triple chocolate cookies her mom sent. My diet sucks, I get it. You don’t have to keep rubbing it in my face,” Scott says. He’s trying to sound irritated, but he’s pretty sure Stiles can hear the laughter he’s suppressing. Scott isn’t actually mad. He knew what he was getting himself into beforehand.   

“But rubbing it in your face is the best part.”

\-----------

Stiles is all about a good show. Even though they know Scott isn’t really bothered by the teasing, if he just pretends to be, Stiles will go on and on stuffing his face until his stomach hurts just to prove a point. Scott isn’t really sure what that point is, but it’s definitely fun to watch. It’s become more of a game than anything. Stiles brags, Scotts forces himself to whine, Stiles stuffs his face until he can’t eat another bite. Half the reason Scott continues to play along, is because the more he acts like he cares, the more Stiles eats. He’s not sure if it was after the time Stiles ate a whole pizza by himself during movie night claiming “ _he forgot Scott couldn’t eat pizza_ ” or after he watched Stiles finished off an entire gallon of rocky road ice cream, but Scott soon realized that he liked watching his best friend eat himself silly.  

He can’t figure out what about it is so appealing, but seeing Stiles gorge himself on food day after day and then lie back on the couch rubbing a hand over his bloated belly oddly fascinates him. Scott loves seeing the way Stiles stomach expands, attempting to fit piles of food into it as Stiles mocks his diet and attempts to make him jealous. The best part is when Scott notices that after a few weeks, what used to be just a temporary bloat in Stiles’ belly, becomes permanent. It isn’t much at first, but Stiles seems completely unaware of the fact that his constant teasing has been causing him to put on weight. Scott is strangely attracted to it, and if all he has to do is semi-play along when Stiles feasts on junk to keep it going, well he can do that. It’s not as if Stiles has a problem with eating his weight in Doritos every night anyway.

\-------------

“You’re missing out,” Stiles taunts from his favorite spot lying back across the couch, “I don’t think one bite would kill you. Just taste it.” 

He can’t lie and say that the triple cheese burger Stiles is holding between his hands doesn’t look amazing. It’s oozing a mixture of grease, cheese, and mayonnaise that looks as if it instantly causes euphoria and clogs arteries with one bite. But he can’t enjoy any of it. He’s sitting on the opposite end of the couch eating grapes, _one of the few lacrosse approved snacks_. Scott doesn’t mind though, he’s always liked fruit anyway.

He curls his lips in and shakes his head, “Thanks, but no thanks.” 

“What about some fries?” Stiles has them drenched in equal parts melted cheese, mayonnaise and ketchup. Scott can’t help but wonder if Stiles even realizes how unhealthily he eats sometimes. He’s a smart kid, second smartest person Scott knows after Lydia. He has to realize exactly what he’s doing.

“Nope.”

Stiles grabs a handful, dropping them in his mouth. He’s lounging back, an aluminum container full of fries perched on his stomach and a massive burger resting in his hand. It is the epitome of gluttony if Scott has ever seen it. Even still, he doesn’t tell his friend to stop. He probably should, but he can’t…not when the bottom of Stiles’ shirt is riding up, exposing the bottom of his growing belly just above his sweat pants. It’s only gotten softer with every meal and it’s starting to noticeably pooch out in all of Stiles’ shirts now. Scott can’t enjoy getting drunk and eating fast food at midnight like the rest of his college age peers. Watching the consequences of Stiles eating is the only small joy Scott has left.  

Stiles sighs as if it’s hurting him to not have to share his meal, “Alright fine, the chocolate shake then? I don’t think I’ll be able to finish the whole thing by myself.”

Scott shoots Stiles a disbelieving side glance which only causes the other boy to roll with laughter. “Are you kidding?”

 “Okay fine, that was a joke. I can totally finish this by myself. I’ll leave you to eating your fruit and being sad.”

\----------

Scott figures the whole rubbing delicious food in his face thing will stop after a while, maybe even get old, especially if Stiles ever realizes what it’s doing to his waistline…except he doesn’t realize and it doesn’t stop. Two months after classes start, Halloween season rolls around and Stiles takes particular joy in filling their dorm with bags and bags of candy that Scott can’t eat. Scott doesn’t care, as long as he can watch Stiles parade around in shirts that are slowing but surely starting to cling to the belly he is now sporting.  

Scott wouldn’t consider it a full blown gut, not yet. It’s definitely a noticeable difference, somewhere in the twenty-five to thirty pound range. Stiles has taken the freshman fifteen and nearly doubled that. Not that he’s surprised, given the way Stiles has been eating. Between the fast food, drinking, all you eat cafeteria and the seemingly endless supply of snacks combined with the fact that the only workout Stiles gets is walking two or three minutes to class, _well_ , it’s the only plausible outcome.  

During the annual McCall-Stilinski Thanksgiving dinner, Stiles spends the entire time talking about how creamy Melissa’s mash potatoes are and how amazing her homemade mac and cheese is. This is one of the few times Scott is actually is kind of jealous because he’s limited to veggies and protein. He even has to skip out of the Sheriff’s famous sweet potato pie, which is a borderline tragedy, and that only encourages Stiles to take an entire pie to Scott’s room and eat it in his face. The only consolation is that Stiles is so full, he literally has to unbutton his pants if he even hopes to finish it and that gives Scott the perfect sneak peak of his ever expanding belly while he brags about how great the pie is.   

When lacrosse starts in January, Scott isn’t sure what’s worse—the way Stiles seems to amp up the teasing ten-fold or the hard on he gets every time Stiles walks into a room. Winter break did nothing to help his waistline and Scott’s pretty sure Stiles put on another five pounds during the first week of official lacrosse practice alone.

And Stiles is nothing, if not dedicated, because he has to know he’s put on quite a bit of weight and he hasn’t stopped yet. Most of his weight has gone right to his mid-section, giving him a soft gut and a pair of thick love handles that Scott has fantasized about grabbing on more than one occasion. He’s noticed that Stiles purchased new clothes over break, the old ones getting too tight to comfortably wear around campus. Although Stiles seems to have kept a few favorite shirts—which Scott loves even though he practically loses it whenever Stiles lounges around their dorm because they hug every new curve and not one actually meets the hems of his pajama bottoms.

He literally spent the entire first semester watching Stiles get fat and he couldn’t be more attracted to him.  

\------------

“Dude, I literally had the _best_ cinnamon rolls today,” Stiles says before shoving half a cream filled donut into his mouth with absolutely no shame.

Scott laughs and shakes his head as he re-threads his lacrosse stick. “How can you talk about food while you eat more food?”

Stiles reaches over, producing another donut from a box on the floor. This one is covered in powdered sugar. He takes a large bite with one hand while using the other to play with the hem of his already too small shirt. Scott has to fight to stay focused.

“I have to make sure you know exactly what you were missing out on while you were at practice. I went with Lydia and Allison to that coffee shop they like to study at sometimes and _God_ , it was amazing. That’s where I got these donuts. You want one?”

Scott glances up from his lacrosse stick with a straight face. Stiles gives him a sly smirk in return.

“Yeah, _yeah_ , I know, _I know_. I was just testing you. You have will power of priest at a playboy mansion party. Not one slip up all semester, you deserve an award or something.”  

He almost wants to laugh. Sticking to his diet has been easy, at least compared to this will power it takes not to touch his best friend. Stiles has no idea how many times Scott has wanted to reach across the couch or a table and take a chunk of his belly in his hand. He totally would, if he wasn’t sure that it was literally the weirdest thing ever. So he keeps his kinks to himself and watches Stiles eat and expand from a comfortable yet agonizing distance.  

\--------------

Sharing a dorm with a guy you want to fuck but can’t, should literally be a form of mild torture Scott thinks. He’s starting to get really tired of having to wait until Stiles leaves for class to rub one out while he imagines his roommate lying across their couch stuffing his face. It’s not fair that Stiles walks around in his too tight shirt that just barely cover his belly button, stomach jiggling as he fills it meal after meal until it’s hard as a rock and he can hardly stand to move or breathe. How is Scott supposed to function when Stiles has become the hottest guy he’s ever seen. Chubby guys weren’t even his thing until now. Honestly, after dating Allison for so long in high school, he was pretty sure guys weren’t his thing…but Stiles lazing around with food in his mouth has become Scott’s new sexuality. Stiles is constantly doing both of those things, leaving Scott constantly (and unlawfully) horny.

Come mid-February, Scott is almost ready to request a new roommate. If Stiles keeps up this “ _making sure Scott knows what he’s missing on_ ” thing, he definitely won’t be able to tolerate living with him next year.

That Saturday evening Scott comes in from a long shower after an even longer practice to find Stiles sitting on the couch with more junk than usual spread out in front of him. They’re supposed to be watching a movie and relaxing, mostly because Scott’s had a hectic week—two tests, a lacrosse game, practice all afternoon—but this is more food than they usually have at their movie nights.

“What’s all this for?” he asks curiously seeing as he can partake in none of it.

Stiles looks over his shoulder, grinning like a child. “I thought we could celebrate, since you scored your first goal last night.”  

For a brief second Scott grins, thinking back to the previous day. He’d scored a game winning goal in overtime between two defenders. It had been kind of amazing to watch honestly, ‘ _unreal_ ’ according to Stiles. It had been the first goal of his college career. He hoped the first of many. 

Just as quick as he smiled, he frowns, “Stiles just because I scored one time, doesn’t mean I’m gonna sit here and pig out with you. You know that.”

“Yeah I know. I didn’t get the food for you. It’s for me.”

He rolls his eyes. He should’ve known really. He does all the work and Stiles gets to use it as an excuse to eat and tease him. “Of course it is.”

“Yeah…but I…” Stiles starts, before his voice trails off. He nervously starts to rub the back of his neck with his hands, “I thought maybe, you could _feed_ it to me?”

Scott almost chokes on his breathing, his eyebrows shooting straight up in surprise, “W- _what?_ ”

“I’m sorry,” panics Stiles, “Is that weird? I just…I thought! _Fuck, I’m an idiot_.” 

Scott shakes his head and walks around the food so that he can sit on the bed beside Stiles. “N-no, it’s not weird. I’m just surprised is all.”

“Okay good, so I’m not crazy? You do like me and this is totally like a thing that you’re into?”

“I don’t know, I guess? Yeah.” He’s biting his bottom lip, completely unsure of how to respond to what’s going on. What the hell is happening? “Why are—how did you know?”

Stiles scoffs, “I’m not _blind_ Scott. We’ve been living together all year. I’ve seen the way you look at me sometimes when I’m eating or just, like around the room. I wasn’t sure, but I’ve been watching you for a while and I thought now might be as good a time as any to see if I was right. I guess I was.”

“And you’re okay with this?” He’s definitely shocked as he looks down at the selection: _pizza (which is a classic) along with cheese fries, mozzarella sticks, chips, cookies, Allison’s brownies, snack cakes, soda, ice cream, candy.._. There’s plenty of everything and Scott’s pretty sure Stiles had to put a lot of work in to get all of this while he was at practice.  

“ _Am I okay with this?_ Do you see all the stuff I bought?” Stiles laughs as if it’s literally the dumbest question ever. “I’m just excited to eat food and get laid, but yeah, I’d say I’m okay with this.”  

Scott nods, looking between his best friend and the food. He can’t believe his biggest college fantasy is about to come true. Is this really happening? He’s fantasized about this countless times, yet now, he’s not even sure what to do. “Where do I even start?”

“You could _start_ , by dipping a mozzarella stick into some marinara sauce and sticking that into my mouth because I’m hungry, I’m horny and I’m tired of talking.”

Stiles grins as Scott rolls his eyes and does what he’s told. He picks up a container of hot cheese sticks and sauce, bringing them up to where they are. He still can’t believe they’re about to do this.

“Lie back,” he says and Stiles seems impressed.

“Oh wow Scott, I had no idea you liked to give orders. This might be more fun that I thought.”

“Just shut up and lean back Stiles.”  

Stiles leans back onto the couch, pushing his gut out further and Scott brings the food to his mouth. He moans, saying something about how good it is as the cheese pulls, not seeming to end. Scott wraps the string of melted cheese around his finger and almost dies when Stiles grabs his hand and sucks it off.  

They find themselves blushing at each other stupidly, “What can I say? I’m sort of impatient.”  

Scott takes note and feeds Stiles the remaining mozzarella sticks with a little more haste before moving onto the cheese fries. They’re even messier than the previous food, giving Stiles plenty of excuses to place Scott’s hand into his mouth and suck it clean.

They tackle the pizza next. Scott’s seen his best friend eat whole pizzas on more than one occasion and seeing as Stiles has shown no signs of slowing down yet, he figures Stiles is more than ready. They breeze through the first half of the large pie with ease. Stiles doesn’t even think twice about it. Around the sixth slice Scott notices him slowing down, and he tries to compensate.

“Don’t slow down,” Stiles tells him, “If you slow down, so will I and I won’t be able to eat as much without my stomach hurting.”

“Oh, yeah? What are you, an expert now?”

“Well you don’t gain sixty some pounds in seven months without developing a few tricks along the way.”  

Scott looks down at Stiles, taking in what he just said. His best friend had definitely put on a lot of weight since the beginning of the year. That’s obvious to anyone who knew Stiles from high school, but _that much?_ Scott had no idea. Looking at him though, he doesn’t doubt it. The way Stiles’ belly is sagging onto his lap, angry red marks running up and down the rolls of his sides, Scott knows he put on a significant amount of weight in a short amount of time. It’s just crazy to hear him say it out loud.

“Yeah…” Stiles chuckles, shifting his body around some to make himself more comfortable, “It started out as a joke, but I kind of liked it. I liked eating and feeling really full and I liked the extra weight. Plus I was pretty sure you sort of like it too, so I just didn’t stop.” He begins rubbing his belly as he finishes off the last slice.

“Are you full?”

Stiles slowly inhales, his belly contracting for a second, before spreading back out to its full size. It’s straining against Stiles’ small shirt, not that the shirt was doing much to cover him up in the first place.

“Getting there, but not yet. There’s still plenty of room in here, watch.”

Scott nods. He’s sure Stiles knows his body better than anyone and if he says there’s more room, there must be. He grabs Allison’s brownies next. He remembers them from high school. They were rich and oozing melted chocolate. He wishes he could taste just one, but pushes that thought to the back of his mind as he grabs the first brownie and feeds it to Stiles, who moans with delight.  

“ _God, these are so good_.”

“Think you can finish them all?” Stiles definitely looks bloated, his gut seeming tight as he rubs his hand over the curve, back and forth.  

“I always have room for these brownies.”

“You ever eaten them with your ice cream?” Scott asks and he’s kind of surprised when Stiles shakes his head no. As much as he eats? He has no idea what he’s missing. “You’re kidding me? Hold on a second.”

He takes a moment to rummage around for a bowl and a spoon. He thought it was stupid that his mom sent him to college with dishes and utensils but he’s so glad to have the stuff now as he throws several brownies into a large bowl and scoops out ice globs of ice cream on top. He spoons a bite into Stiles’ mouth and the sound he makes almost has Scott blowing a load into his shorts.

“Why have I never tried that?”

Scott wastes no time spooning bite after bite of ice cream and brownie into Stiles’ mouth until they’ve finished off both the plate full of brownies and the gallon of ice cream. Slowly Stiles leans further back into the couch, shifting his stomach so that it is has more room to spread out over his legs.

Scott can’t take his eyes off him. “Are you doing alright?”

He receives a slow nod in reply. It’s clear Stiles is really full. His breathing is slow and labored. His stomach looks stretched tight, barely expanding with each breath.

Scott takes a deep breath of his own before mustering up the courage to place a hand on Stiles’ belly. Even though he’s so full, his belly is still surprisingly soft beneath his fingertips. Scott moves his hand is slow circular motions and Stiles fidgets beneath him, pushing his stomach towards Scott’s hand. “That definitely helps.”

Scott takes it a step further, leaning over and bringing Stiles lips to his own. He’s not surprised to find that Stiles tastes like chocolate, considering what he just ate. It’s better than everything he imagined. He’s suddenly kissing harder, sucking at his lips as if he’s trying to take Stiles’ very life. The harder he kisses, the looser he feels with his hands. He goes from rubbing to squeezing, his hands roaming everywhere from Stiles’ soft chest to underneath his stomach, right above his plump thighs. Stiles moans with pleasure as Scott explores his body, discovering every roll and curve for the first time.    

“You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to do this,” Scott breathes between kisses. “I’ve been watching you sit on this couch, stomach out, stuffing yourself all night, sneaking glances whenever I thought you couldn’t see me.”

A short laugh escapes from Stiles’ throat, “That’s funny, half the time, I was hoping you _would_ see me.” 

Oh the irony. Scott wishes he would’ve known that sooner.

“I was eating for _you_ ,” Stiles says as Scott moves his mouth down towards his neck, “I was getting fatter for _you_. I knew you liked it. I kind of liked it. I liked knowing that you secretly enjoyed how big I was getting, checking me out in my shirts as they kept getting smaller.”

“ _God, I love those shirts_ ,” Scott comments, because he knows exactly what shirts Stiles means and those are literally his favorites.  

“Yeah I know. I only wear them for you, in here, just in case you hadn’t noticed.”  

For some reason the thought of Stiles only wearing them for him all this time gets Scott especially hot and bothered. He honestly hadn’t noticed. He pulls back as he pinches the bottom of  Stiles’ gut between his thumb and his index finger.

“I can’t take this anymore. I have to…can we take this to my bed.”

“Fucking finally!” Stiles groans, “I thought you’d never ask! But only if you promise that we’ll come back and finish off all this food between rounds two and three.”

Scott grins, wondering how the hell he got so lucky.

“Of course we can.”

**Author's Note:**

> hope you enjoyed!   
> title is from "sugar were going down" by fall out boy


End file.
